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I am in the workforce, but I don't feel like I'm in the workforce. Maybe forcing myself to work, yeah that's it. Pure coercion.. is it worth the money?

 

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I'd much rather learn Latin or eat a meal of scorpions marinated in barbecue sauce... than continue to work so hard only to earn pennies. yeah, I'm complaining.

 

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why do I do this?... it's very draining. perhaps not worth it. I just think to myself, those cereal boxes are stained with blood and tears.

 

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Woo, today I left not feeling like my soul had died at the workplace, like the other poor souls trapped within those walls, just moaning to get out. corporate America, sigh.

 

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Learning differential equations? Ok, I'll take that over doing this. Heck. I'll go school, re-take math classes, take tests. Rack my brain trying to find the curvature of a projection thrown at such and such speed. I was good at that (learning). not at math, anything but this. C'mon girl. get with it.

I'll write columns for Cosmo magazine!!

 

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This place is like a revolving hell hole, one detail to another. Like Dante's inferno, there are nine levels to it, one worse than the other. Does that seem bad? It's really not that bad, but I like likening it to a literary place full of demons and low low prices.

 

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I don't think this slave labor thing is working out, but I mean what can you do. :/ In reality, I should be glad/happy? there are people who actually do the work that this corporation sells for only pennies a day.

 

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That soundtrack is stuck in my head now, song after song just memorized by heart. I wonder if they play it mesmerize the people and mentally enslave them under corporate policy and ideology.

 

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Perhaps I should work at a sex shop. Pretty easy right? But I'm not so sure it's 100% safe if there are potential stalkers out there.

 

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Why did I choose to go back, I'd rather collect pee specimens which is an actual job that people. But really... Why.
Pee specimens.

 

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No wonder they keep me around for just a few days a week. Because everyone hates this job, eventually quits and the workload is ridiculous. Not unlike the sweatshops I'm sure this company has overseas. Ugggggggggh. I haven't wanted to work more tbh, even with the limited hours I do have. Maybe though. Maybe.

More money= more workhorse treatment.

 

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Today work made me cry. Or maybe it was internal bleeding, whichever, doesn't matter. I get existential there. It's the only place that can make me question the very fabric or near absence of life. Maybe I should do something else, but oh, go without a job and be out of work? That's for bums. Maybe. I'm too old to jump from place to place and yet I need to. Brb need to seek medical help.

 

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:hug I don't think you'd be a bum if you were unemployed for awhile. Good luck with everything.

Thanks. A few people have gone to other places, maybe it's not too late to try something new.
Well.. That was a pointless state, but thanks.

 

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I'm glad people are moving on up. You're more capable than you think. At the same time, why must I feel bad for missing HALF a day's work. I swear, ideal American work week is 80, 000hours or somewhere around there, approximately.

 

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I feel like an idiot. I passed on the opportunity (or avoided actually) to work in a different position in my job, permanently and now that's filled up. People were encouraging me to apply for it too. I'm so dumb. All the while, a friend mentioned that its about time to start figuring out what I want to do in life. In that case, I don't think I'm smart enough for something like chemistry or research. It would take a short while to get a four year degree, admittedly but I'm so behind and do I honestly want to be in this field. Wtf do I do. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuudge.

 

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The trick is to get a job where you're paid to attend work for 40 hours, but don't have to actually work anywhere near that and have company-supplied internet...

That's the dream. That and make it into middle class.

Why I don't make real lunches.. Beats me

 

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As much as I want to win this art competition, I'm also kinda dreading going to the exhibition and talking to people... Complimenting someone on their work is easy, buut I've always been a laconic person who let her work do the talking. Ughhhh

Artists seem to have the most freedom when it comes to personality quirks, at least it seems to me. Could you pretend to be a performance artist and stay silent the error night? That would be cool.

.... Im counting down the clock to get out of this bleached, madness, sterile death trap. Not a hospital but of inspirational posters and antibacterial hand sanitizers.

 

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There's this dude at work who's pretty funny and surprisingly makes time go by a little faster. I'm definitely not interested in that way, but I really wish I were more sociable. He, too picked up on the unnerving vibes someone was sending me. I was like.."you too?" A nearly visible tear formed in my eye. Oh yea, and he managed to casually find out about someone's business. That was funny.

 

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Hoping that my interview goes well tomorrow. Thing is, my bull**** company has this "equal opportunity" hiring process so they are required to interview a certain number of people, even if they've already decided on a shoe- in. Mostly the temps are hired, rarely someone from another department, even if you are a permanent employee. If anything, I'll be able to B.S. my way through it and gain a bit of confidence. Am I qualified? Seems like a fairly easy job. Do they even know me? Hell no. ****, I hate interviews.
After this, though, I can go back to my regular old job where I don't have to impress anyone. yay? "I'm smart, hire me!".. or just choose that temp you already like. It's like an audition. Sometimes I do like the contestant but the judges differ otherwise. ****in politics. (Excuse my French)

 

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7 hours of sleep is not enough. Who invented mornings anyway. What alien life form loves waking up 6 a.m??!?! (I know, I know: they're extremely productive people) but my initial respond is to think "Why, you're, you're crazy...all of you! This isn't real! Get away from me! Ahhhhhhhhhh *runs off into the bright rising sun*